You Found Me
by OnlyKnowYouLoveHer
Summary: Captain Steven Rogers wakes up seventy years after he was last seen and finds himself thrown into the 21st Century with no clue on how to survive in this strange new world. With the harsh memories of war running through his head, Steve must face this struggle alone. How does a floundering Captain find the man he used to be and who could possibly help him move forward? Steve/OC
1. Chapter 1

Steve choked back tears as he stared at the contents of the file in front of him. He'd been brought up with the belief that a real man must be strong and was determined not to let his emotions win out. This was a battle Steve faced everyday since he'd woken up in a new era, his mind constantly flickering between confusion over the society he now found himself thrown into and the pain over having lost everyone he loved and cared about. It was easy to forget what he'd lost as long as he kept busy but, sitting at his dining room table, finally knowing how many of his friends were now dead and realising that some had died from old age really told Steve how alone he truly was in this world. Upon reaching Peggy's information he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding; she was alive. The paper had come with her contact information and his eyes had briefly flicked to his phone before he thought better of it. It pained him to think about how old she'd be now, to think she'd not be as he remembered her to be, that she had moved on and shared a life with another man. He felt selfish thinking only of himself, but he didn't have someone looking out for him anymore, he was alone. Steve winced at his last memory of the one person he truly believed had his best interests at heart and shook his head in the hope he'd finally stop thinking about it.

With tears stinging his eyes, Steve grabbed his jacket and keys and stormed out his apartment. As the door slammed he desperately inhaled, hoping an intake of air would calm him down. It was impossible for him to stay in that apartment for a moment longer. He found himself wandering around Manhattan, an act that was not helping his hungering for his own time back. He passed by many people talking about things he didn't understand, using lingo he couldn't decode. Steve began to regret his choice of escape; this certainly was not helping him feel better about his situation.

He finally decided reached his chosen destination. Looking up through a gap in the nearby office blocks Steve had an almost perfect view of Stark Tower; the brain child of the closest living relative to any of the men he had known. Glancing around he found a spot outside a café that gave him an even better view of the overbearing skyscraper. He found himself drawn to the tower despite how hideous he found its appearance. It made sense to Steve that Howard's son had created something so innovative yet so domineering; Howard had been just as flashy with his inventions, why would his son be any different? He felt time with his father _must_ have shaped the man Anthony was.

Steve began absent-mindedly sketching his view; the artist in him couldn't help it, besides it was calming. A young waitress attempted to initiate conversation with him, but he simply found himself even more confused and, never mind what the older gentleman at the table next to him said, was not interested in pursuing the girl further. She was pretty and seemed pleasant enough, but Steve was damaged and he couldn't help but feel that she just wouldn't be the type of woman he could be attracted to should he reach a point where he felt comfortable initiating a relationship with someone. He left abruptly, catching the subway to an old school, hole-in-the-wall gym he'd been informed of the location of by S.H.I.E.L.D. He signed up for a membership, hoping that he was able to forget what he had been through by repetitive work-outs, beating the hell out of punching bags until the sand spewed out the side. He began to beat his frustrations away with rhythmic punches, thankful that the owner had asked few questions about why he wanted the gym to himself after closing time, hearing the word "soldier" and seemingly understanding the need for something to heal a man damaged by war. He'd barely spoken to Steve, only to give him some keys and a card "in case he wanted someone to talk to that would listen". Steve hadn't given it a glance, but found himself intrigued by what the burly man felt could possibly help a hopeless case by him. Sweat bleeding into his eyes, he pushed away the hair falling over his face and reached for the towel to mop his brow and walked over to his bag to pull out the rectangular piece of card out of one of the pockets in his bag. Eyes glaring at the words in front of him, Steve tried not to be angry at the man's suggestion that a _shrink_ of all things was what he needed, but he couldn't help but remember how he'd always been brought up to believe a man should be. He didn't need some head doctor who knew nothing of what he had seen telling him how to feel and he certainly was not about to begin spilling his innermost thoughts to some stranger, especially given the secret Steve held. Yet Steve began to think. He thought of the horror he had seen during the war, of everything and everyone he had lost and he realised that he could think of nothing else that could possibly help him. If he continued to bury it like the men of the forties had then surely he would only end up permanently damaged. He pictured himself in the future, sticking to the same routine of solitude and senseless destruction of punching bags. Steve shook his head: he couldn't let that happen, couldn't allow this second chance he had been given to go to waste. He still wanted what he always had, a settled lifestyle, a family, someone to share his life with; the right partner. Hadn't he said to Peggy that he was waiting for the right person for him? Maybe she hadn't been what he needed, what he was waiting for, no matter how he thought he had felt about her at the time.

Steve glanced at the card again and stuck out his chin defiantly. It no longer mattered what he had been taught about being a man in the forties. This was a new time; men had to be different now. He could talk about how he felt, the horrors he had seen, so long as he did not give away which war he'd fought in. It'd require him to lie, something an honest man like Steve was no good at, but surely he could manage a small omission of truth. If he was to grab this chance he had been given and run with it, then he had to at least try everything he could to get over his inner demons, he couldn't offer any woman anything with the state of mind he had now. If he was to find his life partner then he had to do something. He would start with Dr Jeffrey Banks.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The following Wednesday saw Steve arriving for his first appointment with Dr Banks. He'd spent the days since making this appointment working out what he could divulge without the man becoming suspicious if he were to accidentally mention outdated tactics or battles fought in the wrong place. Steve knew that the doctor's first thought wouldn't be that he had lived through the Second World War, but rather that he had something seriously wrong with him. Walking into the reception of the small office, he noticed the room was empty. It made sense, he supposed, Dr Banks was the only therapist that worked here and Steve was the next client, there was no need for anyone else to be there, save the receptionist, who was curiously missing. He decided to sit down until the person running the desk appeared, choosing the chair right next to the front desk so he was visible to anyone coming through the door. The nerves began getting to him as he contemplated the enormity of what he was about to do. He could possibly be about to start getting his life back on track, all he had to do was keep an open mind and listen to what the man had to say; a hard feat for the Captain.

He was so stuck in his thoughts that he almost missed the short woman walking through the door, struggling with a large pile of folders. Having been brought up to act gentlemanly towards women, Steve jumped up out of his seat and rushed over to help her, coughing before speaking so that he wouldn't startle her.

"Excuse me ma'am, would you like a hand with that?" At his polite question deep blue eyes flicked up to meet his gaze and a warm smile stretched across her face.

"I should be okay sir, but thanks for the offer. Sorry about making you wait, you haven't been waiting here too long, have you?" Her accent suggested she'd grown up in New York but her tone was soft and raspy, making her sound like one of those jazz singers Steve had grown up listening to. The memory made him smile.

"Not at all, I pretty much just got here. Am I meant to sign in with you miss?" Looking at the woman Steve was struck by just how short she was; he'd guess she hit 5'2" at a push, making her just over an entire foot smaller than him.

"Yeah, I'm the only office worker here, a favour for my uncle. He wanted someone he could trust running his schedule and he pays well. Let me just get the desk and I'll sign you in Mr…" She trailed off, giving Steve an inquisitive look as she pulled her long brown hair into a tight bun.

"Rogers, Steve Rogers, ma'am." Steve became rather awkward as he remembered why he was actually here. It wasn't about him making friends with the pretty yet tiny woman in front of him; he was here to move forward with his life.

"Well Mr Rogers, you've still got ten minutes before your session which should give us enough time to set up a file for you. I'll need your contact details should something crop up that'd cause a future session to be cancelled, is that okay?" She looked up at Steve with a look of such innocence, she looked almost childlike.

Answering in the affirmative, Steve proceeded to tentatively give the young woman his contact information, pausing occasionally to make sure he'd recalled everything correctly before giving her his most encouraging smile. He'd been pleased when she had picked up her pen to note down his information. He was unsure if he could explain away his confusion if she'd used some newly thought up technology to input his details and was pleased she was archaic in her methods.

"Okay, I think I've got everything I need here, why don't you go take a seat? The doctor should just be finishing up." She gestured to the small seating area Steve had previously been sat in before looking back down at the manila folder to pen his name across the top.

Now without a distraction, Steve began to feel his nerves set in again. Sitting down, it was almost impossible for him to stop his foot from tapping and his palms from sweating. His teeth worried at his bottom lip as he went through once again the list of topics he had to stop himself from mentioning. A couple of minutes later and a young girl was escorted out of a room by an older man with white hair and thick rimmed glasses. Steve guessed that this had to be Doctor Banks. Once the teenager had left the reception, the doctor turned to his niece and asked for his next patient's folder. She wordlessly gave it to him and he thanked her, calling her Grace as he did so. Ah, Steve thought, she that was her name.

Concentrating back on the older man he'd soon be spending an hour with, Steve noticed him read his name on the top of the file and then glance directly at him before gesturing for him to enter the room. Steve had no more time to worry or prepare. It was time to try to start again.


End file.
